Poison
by Amathist Fwirrel
Summary: When Jak falls ill after the big race, Ashlin suspects foul play, but Keira looks for other answers. Whoever's right, they better find the answer soon, because Jak's getting worse... post Jak X, oneshot.


_**Poison**_

_**Just a thought after playing Jak X…**_

The music was blaring in the Rusty Hook. Two hours after Rayn's hasty exit, the sun was up, yet none of the inhabitants were even slightly inclined to leave. Jak's team were all held in the luscious folds of alcohol, adrenaline and sweet, sweet victory.

Tuesday's Barman was Zian, a sixty year old elf. He had evil blue eyes set in a squint, a twenty-fag a day habit and a fondness for a certain word.

"Arg, how'd you gobshites get 'n win the race, huh? That faggot-y gobshite Razor was winnin, ev'one said he was, and you- Drink? More drink? You little gobshite, yew had more 'n' enough."

The foul-mouthed bloke left after Daxter had started throwing objects as well insults around. Promising to charge Haven city for the breakages as he slammed the door behind him – but he would probably screw the Governor for every splinter he found on the floor.

Some were using the time to feel the new freedoms the race had brought them. Keira stood with the table in between her and her father, palms down, talking earnestly with her father. The occupants of the other tables watched as his volatile rage turned his cheeks ruddy, when he realised that he couldn't control his little girl anymore.

Ashlin and Torn's table was closest to the old man. They were nestled in the booth together, the rebel leader's arms intertwined with the governess'. Both noted in a hazy manner how diplomatically the young woman managed her father, removing the tension in the Sage, leading him on to her views. She was good, at times appearing harsh and unrelenting, next complimenting him, giving him no ground for him to stand on. However, it was impossible to hear exactly what she was saying, because Daxter had cranked up the volume as soon as Krew's fat holograph and his daughter had disappeared.

The Ottsel himself was sitting on the bar, recounting his racing experiences to Sig. The giant man himself nursed a beer quietly, nodding absently along to the tale. He raised an eyebrow occasionally, especially at his new nick-name 'Sig the Stig', and even more at Daxter's repeated claims that 'he wouldn't lie'.

Jak was sitting in the corner on his own. He lay with his head pushed up against the table, his short buzz cut kissing the table. Ashlin, on one of her many mental tours of the room finally felt sorry for him.

"He's taken Rayn's betrayal hard." She whispered to her boyfriend.

"Go on then." Torn sighed.

Ashlin raised an eyebrow.

"I trust you enough to go talk to him."

Ashlin frowned. How the hell was he able to do that? But she did want to go to the man hunched in the corner, so she slipped off her boy friend's lap and sauntered over to Jak.

"Hey." She said quietly. He didn't look at her, instead he just lay there with his head pressed up against the table. His tight racing suit showed off his body perfectly, especially his tense muscles.

"Hey", she repeated, a little louder. Her voice, for some reason, developed a slight tremor. "Jak, are you okay?"

"He is looking pale." Said Keira, appearing at Jak's side. She peered closer at Jak in the dank atmosphere, and lifted his head up to the light. Jak hissed and screwed his eyes shut tighter. He pulled himself back into a ball and groaned.

"You bastard." Snarled Ashlin in her dangerous, low voice, "you bastard, why didn't you say anything?"

"Stop it!" Yelped Keira in his defence. "You aren't helping!" She wrapped her arms around the vert-blonde.

"Ladies!" Boomed Sig, striding over. "What's got you two pretty things worked up?"

"The antidote didn't work." Growled Ashlin.

"Jak's sick." Replied Keira at the same time.

Both women glared at each other. "Sick?" said Ashlin dismissively, "Poisoned, trust me Sig, that bitch Rayn-"

"We don't know that! Besides, Jak was barely affected by the poison, and you know it! He should have been really ill, because he's smaller than everyone else and was racing more, why would he suddenly take a turn for the worse?"

"It's poison, Keira, he was poisoned. That's what people who are _poisoned _do."

Keira smart retort was cut off by Sig laying a large hand on her shoulder.

"Ashlin's right. Jak's a liability. But I don't think Rayn was involved. If she was, I don't think she would of made it so obvious. But I wouldn't put it past Mizo to put a dud in. Hell, maybe even Mizo's crash could o' damaged the antidote in some way."

Daxter, now sober, joined in the conversation. "Crap! But we can't make another antidote! Jak! Buddy! Don't go towards the light!"

"Jak?" asked Keira gently, shaking him. He didn't respond. "Daddy." She said calmly, "he's just fainted." But her face had gone white.

The silence that followed while they watched Samos push Jak into the recovery position was broken by the sound of a door opening. Torn spun around only to see the old wastelander standing in the door way, walking out.

"Where you going?" Torn challenged.

"I'm gonna talk to Rayn. If she had the poison, she'll sure as hell have the antidote, in case she accidentally poisoned herself."

"Good thinking." Said Ashlin approvingly, "Torn an' I will go with you. You three," She added, looking at Keira, Daxter and Samos "deal with him", pointing at Jak.

"Hurry!" Called the Green Sage "The poison is working rapidly; I fear he doesn't have much time!"

Sig swung himself into his well armoured racing car. The couple settled in next to him. "Hold on cherries" he growled, "this is gonna be fast."

"Do you even know where you're going?" Rasped Torn.

"Sure, I been to Krew's mansion a coup'la times, when I was Krew's heavy. If Rayn's _anywhere,_ she'll be there." Sig answered, dodging traffic "fifteen minutes, tops – corner!" Sig finished sending the car into a power slide to get round a sharp bend. The wheels gripped again, and the car bounced away, leaving the smell of burnt rubber in the air.

Twelve minutes later they arrived at Zoun Mainsion, the historic home to all of Krew's crime lord ancestors. Most people would have though it strange to build a mansion in the heart of Kras' industrial section, but Krew's family knew the importance of giving a strong impression to the working classes, before the politicians. Sig pounded on the ornate door.

A manservant, with the same 'proper' accent as his employer answered it. The three didn't waste time, elbowing their way through the door, and shoving the man aside. The commotion caused Rayn to appear at the top of the stairs.

"Humfray, put that old thing down." She scolded. Out of the corner of his eye, Sig noticed that the old man had picked up a dusty blunderbuss, which appeared to e as old as he was. It was aimed between all three of them, and Sig knew, even from its old design, that it was some kind of scatter gun. It was reluctantly lowered. "What is the meaning of this," she asked sounding amused, "I hope you're not still sore about father's race tactics."

"Shut up" said Ashlin menacingly, "The stuff you gave us was a dud."

"Never." Answered Rayn firmly, "I made sure myself that they were all proper. Are you accusing me of something? Your lack of trust in me is shocking."

Ashlin was about to answer back, but Sig cut in. "We aint accusing nobody of nuthin girl, all we're saying is that it didn't work. And we'll need another."

Rayn paused. "If it didn't work…then I'll be, how do I put it? Wary, of giving him another dose of the antidote. It can be extremely poisonous on its own."

"We know." Answered Ashlin coldly.

Rayn sighed. "I can't change your mind, I assume?" she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a single glowing phial. "It is my last one. Do be careful with it, please. It is extremely valuable."

"You carry the last antidote in Kras around with you?" asked Torn suspiciously.

"Torn, I did drink the poison. If I had misjudged the timing, I could have been poisoned and never know it until just before my end. Besides, the poison father used on you is a favourite with the ruling classes. As Kras' new Crime-Queen, I thought it was best to take precautions." She smiled. "But I assume Jak needs it more."

Sig blinked, Ashlin frowned ever so slightly and Torn smirked. "Very good." He said, "I knew I had a reason I liked you."

"-apart from your body" Ashlin added mentally.

"How'd you do it?" Torn asked.

"I'm a good judge of character. I know that if he wasn't the one ill, he would be here." Rayn stated simply, her little springs of hair bobbing as she spoke.

With the solution at hand, all three turned and left Rayn in peace. And her front door in pieces.

Five hours later and Jak only seemed to get worse. He lay in his bland hotel room with the blankets pulled up under his chin, bathed in a cold sweat and shivering. Ashlin and Torn had left after half an hour of coming back from Rayn's, to trawl the criminal underworld, for rumours. They had Dragged Sig along too, for his connections.

"I don't understand it." Exclaimed Samos. "How could it not work?"

"Perhaps Mizo did it!" Suggested Daxter loudly, "Jak aint as sharp as me, he wouldn't see 'em slipping something in his drink."

"Even, if he did, there's no way that we could find out what Mizo used on him." Rumbled the Green Sage.

"Hello, did the dry rot affect your brain, you green mean bitching machine? Of course we can! That's what a hospital's there for, right?" Snapped Dax, thumping his thick rudder-like tail on the table he was standing on.

"Doctors in Kras are bought and sold like bullets." Answered Samos irritably "Anyone of them would happily slit his throat for the right price. Besides," he continued, "as soon as we stepped through the door, the crime bosses would hear about how defenceless Jak is at the moment…do you know how much Jak's continued existence threatens men in charge in Kras? He's played a part in the downfall of _two _crime lords and a tyrant."

"Argh!" Screamed the orange rat, "It's hopeless!" He kicked Krew's will with a furry paw, sending it parking down to the ground. At once it flashed into life, Krew's hologram floating at eye level like a repulsive balloon. Every so often, the whole image would shudder, as if it was complaining about its treatment.

"Daxter!" Screamed the Sage, "Turn that thing OFF!"

However, before the Ottsel could reach the device, he sound function kicked in. "just remember," the fungus green blob intoned, "Three seconds, no more." Daxter twatted it with a bottle, sending it skidding silently off to one side. The hologram vanished, either because the precursor had hit the 'off' switch or because the precursor had broken it.

"Fat lotta good those trophies do for 'im, he's dead!" he squeaked. "Ow! Glass in foot! Glass in foot!" he whimpered, after stepping on shards of broken bottle glass.

"Wait." Said Keira slowly, then: "Oh, god. He poisoned himself!"

Daxter stopped hopping on one foot. "What?"

"He drank the antidote – it's the antidote that's killing him! God, I saw him, I saw him wait until AFTER Rayn had drunk her wine –after three seconds. Oh, why didn't I _think_? And when he drank the antidote – that's why he didn't feel as bad as the rest of us – he wasn't poisoned!"

"Yeah, but Keira, there isn't a cure for the antidote…it's an antidote!" Squeaked Daxter, again.

"I have an idea. Daxter, do you know how to get to Krew's place?"

"Do I? Me 'n' Jak scouted out that place just after we arrived." Said Daxter cheering up immediately at the thought of action. "Piece of cake baby!"

"Then let's get going." Keira kissed her father on the cheek, leaving him behind to nurse the sick hero alone.

Half an hour later, Keira found herself sitting comfortably in a plush well padded chair. (She had convinced Daxter to wait outside) Rayn sat opposite, and the warm cackling fire beside them cast each of their faces deep into the shadows.

If anyone had entered the room at that point they would have noticed the similarities between the two women. They both shared the same build and each had almost identical posture. Looking deeper though, in that frozen snapshot, you could see the same fiery determination that drove them to success in their own fields - and into the affections of the same man.

Then again, they both had overbearing, violent, bad tempered fathers who cared deeply for them and who had both created formidable organisations in Haven's shady underworld.

The marine hair woman poured her opposite a cup of tea, to which Keira laughed nervously and declined.

"I see your problem Keira." Rayn mused. "The one option you have left is to give Jak a dose of poison, to, rather ironically, counteract the antidote." Rayn waited for Keira's tight nod. "But if you find yourself incorrect, you will hasten his end."

Keira nodded again blinking quickly in succession. She drew her hand across her eyes discreetly. Rayn turn her head away. "Damned if you do, damned if you don't." she mused. "Yet…would you wait here Keira?"

"Yes." Answered Keira quickly. "Rayn what are you-whatever you're doing, please, hurry."

Krew's daughter shut the door behind her quickly. Unlike Torn and Sig, who she secretly distrusted, and Ashlin, who he openly distrusted, Rayn genuinely liked Jak and Keira. And although she didn't feel guilty for her part in Jak's suffering –it was her business after all, she didn't hate him enough to let him die. Which is why she re-entered the room carrying two tightly sealed flasks. She set them down on the table in between the two large chairs that she and Keira sat on, and the heavy thud echoed around the room. There was a pause, and Rayn beckoned Keira over to her. Keira approached cautiously, and was surprised when the larger woman handed them both over to her without showing her what was inside.

The navy-haired woman pointed at the red bottle on the right. "This is the poisoned wine, a double dose. And that one," She explained, resting her long finger on the second, smaller bottle, "is the juices of the Winterbane plant, with exactly 20mm of metalhead ichor, that has been matured for three years."

"The antidote." Stated Keira.

"Correct. Twice the amount needed for someone of his size. If the poison makes him worse, give him that, and hopefully it'll buy him some time. And if it isn't needed, you might want to hold on to that."

Keira's hands tightened into fists. Did she just suggest that she might poison them again?

"That poison is a favourite among Kras' Mafia. You seem to be always running into trouble. It could save your life." Rayn explain quickly, seeing the aqua-haired woman's panic.

Keira looked at the bottle of antidote. "I thought you said that the drug you gave Ashlin was your last."

"When this, is Kras City's most in wanted illegal substance? Really Keira…" She chuckled at the woman, but then glanced sharply up at the grandfather clock behind her. "Keira, you must leave! If your theory is true, Jak doesn't have much time!"

Rayn watched as she left the mansion, from one of her high and ornate windows. Humfray sidled up to meet her. "Tea, madam?" the venerable man offered, holding up a plate of bone china. Rayn delicately selected a medium teacup, with little daggers outlined in royal blue round the rim. The crime lord sipped the tea, watching as Keira sped off into the distance.

"You are positive that you administered the poison correctly Humfray?" She asked her man servant. "Yes, madam," he answered stiffly. "I gave it to Mr. Mar just as the antidote's effects begun. He will fell terrible for a while, however, but it is better than the alternative. I must say, madam, you handled that very efficiently. I am assuming that the poison and antidote are merely placebos, or course."

"The poison is nothing more than coloured water." Rayn agreed, "But the antidote is real. Think of it as an apology, of sorts. I need you to continue the surveillance to check that my calculations are correct. That means that you will have to parade as Zian, again Humfray. The old man pulled out a cigarette, and squinted at the woman. "Parade, I aint fucking parading girl, I'm proud t' watch the little gobshites fer yew." He took out the cigarette and changed his accent back. "It is most amusing for me to retake my old accent, madam."

Somewhere in the city below, filed with importance, a mechanic and an Ottsel rushed to save their friends life.

Unaware that he owed his life to someone else.


End file.
